“Let’s get to your room.” She ushers me to the elevator then down the hall to the room. She pulls her phone from a hidden pocket in her dress and waves it in front of the reader on the door. Pushing the door open, she enters the room with me a few steps behind her. I go straight to the bedroom. The bed’s made, and everything is immaculate. I never would have expected to be able to clean one of these rooms, much less stay here.
“What happened?” Nina asks, following me into the bedroom.
“It’s time for me to leave.” I get my canvas bag and dig through my clothes for something to wear.
Nina comes to stand next to me. “Talk to me.”
I turn, glaring at her. “He was the one who recommended me.”
Nina remains quiet for a few seconds. “Does it matter how I found you?”
Does it? Maybe if he hadn’t made me feel like a used tissue. “He just wanted sex from me.” I curl my fingers into the mega-mart jeans and T-shirt at the top of the pile. “I know this wasn’t supposed to be about dating. But why me? He knew me from before. We argued points in class. So did he do all this just to feel like the winner?”
Nina takes a breath, preparing for another pep talk. “There’s no telling what goes through a man’s mind.”
Not the answer I was hoping for. I yank the jeans out of the bag and shove one leg in then the other. “I get this is an ethical gray area. It would have been different if it was someone else.” Someone not him. Not the man I spent endless hours thinking about. I zip up my jeans and head to the bathroom.
“Jasmine, think this through,” Nina reminds me as I shut the door.
“I have.” I slip out of the dress, setting it on the counter as I clip on my bra then pull the T-shirt over my head. After what I’ve been wearing this weekend, my own mega-mart jeans feel thin and cheap. They are. Everything I own is from the discount rack, and I make them last until the very last moment.
“You only have a few more hours to finish out the contract,” Nina reminds me through the door.
I can’t. I just can’t do it. Being around Chase Reynolds always sparks something inside me. In class, that was the need to argue points with him. In the bedroom it’s been plain need. I don’t know how I’m going to get past this without questioning everything I’ve done.
But I know one thing I have to do. I open the door and hand her the dress. “I need to leave. Now.” I pull my hair up and reach into my bag for a scrunchie.
“The clothes are yours.”
I glance over. Is she serious? She thinks I’d have anywhere to wear the clothes she got me? I couldn’t even sell something that expensive. “I won’t be needing them. Any of them.”
“Whatever happened, we can sit down with Mr. Reynolds and work through this,” she insists. “Just wait until morning. You can stay here.”
I shake my head. “It’s not about all of this. It’s me.”
“You have a lot to lose, Jasmine.”
I wet my lips and shake my head. “I should never have agreed to this,” I say firmly. “I let my fear of failure convince me to do something I never would have considered otherwise.” I pick up my bag.
“Where are you going?”
“Where I should have gone to begin with.” I turn, heading for the door.
“Let me at least get you a car,” she offers.
“That’s not necessary,” I assure her without slowing down.
“It’s the middle of the night, and you’re in the downtown area. It’s not the safest place for you to go walking around.”
18
Chase
The blackout curtains are open, letting in the morning sunlight. I’ve been in bed for hours, staring at the ceiling. The damn bed feels huge. I should have moved to another room. Better yet, I should have moved to another hotel. I may as well get up so I can head home.
I’m coming out of the shower when there’s a hesitant knock at the door. I stop rubbing the towel over my head. Could that be Jasmine? I’m out of the bathroom and through the bedroom when I come to my senses. Without slowing down, I stretch out the towel, wrapping it around my waist.
I fumble with the lock and pull open the door. The tightness in my chest turns to disappointment. One of the hotel staff members rolls in a trolley with breakfast for two.
“Would you like me to serve, sir?” the woman asks, in a businesslike manner, as if I’m not standing here in nothing but a towel.
I should have her take it away. Despite being awake for hours, I have no appetite. But the silver dollar pancakes catch my eye. I clear my throat. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Have a good day, then, sir.” She lets herself out.
Nina had mentioned breakfast would be provided before we left. I can’t help but stare at the plate with the miniature pancakes. An image of Jasmine as a child fills my head. She’s got both hands holding her breakfast as she takes tiny bites to make the meal last.
My cell chimes, breaking the spell. I pick up the phone, reading a notification of money returned to my account. Dread piling up inside me, I open the app to find the full amount I’d paid for this weekend.
Did these bastards actually screw over Jasmine? Anger cuts through my gut. Switching to the contact list, I pull up gardener and hit the button. The line rings once.
“Good morning, Mr. Reynolds,” Nina greets. “I assume you received your refund.”
“What the hell is this?” I demand. “Why did you send the money back?”
“Jasmine failed to comply with the requirements for the contract,” she says in a detached manner.
“Failed to—” I pause, recognizing the words. Is this how I acted with Jasmine? This cold? I force down the lump in my throat. “Technically, she left after midnight,” I clarify. “That would make it Monday.”
“Be that as it may,” she says, in a more neutral voice, “Jasmine refused arbitration. She chose to leave without the money.”
“She left? Jasmine’s gone?” I tighten my hold on the cell. “How long ago?”
“She left last night. Shortly after having words with you.”
“I…” My heartbeat’s echoing inside the hollow in my chest. In the back of my mind, I figured she’d go back to her room. Likely curse me for being an asshole. And by now she would have collected her money and gone on with her life. Instead, she walked away from all of it. Why would she choose to leave without the safety net she’d been counting on? Who does that?
“Mr. Reynolds?”
“Why would she leave without her money? Where would she go with nothing more than a couple of bucks to her name?”
“I tried talking her into waiting until this morning.” The sadness in her voice digs at my conscience. “At that point, she’d already made up her mind to move on.”
“I see.” I lower myself to the couch. I ran her off. Made her feel like something less than she is. Fuck. She’s never acted anything like I expected, yet I lumped her in with every money-hungry, conniving woman I’ve ever had to deal with.
“However,” Nina continues tentatively, “I may know where she went.”